---
The Eclipse sailed through calmer seas now, the horizon stretching wide and blue before them. The storm had tested their resolve, but it had also shown Michael the ship's resilience. It was a testament to Declan's craftsmanship and their crew's growing synergy.
Amara had fully integrated into the crew. She spent her days keeping the infirmary well-stocked and occasionally sparring with Lia, teaching her pressure points and basic anatomy to improve her combat techniques. Lia absorbed the lessons with enthusiasm, eager to contribute more to their journey.
Michael stood at the helm, the familiar rhythm of the sea calming his restless thoughts. But his peace was short-lived. Lia approached him, holding a folded piece of paper in her hands, her expression uncertain.
"Michael," she said, holding the paper out to him. "I found this among our supplies. It's not ours, is it?"
Michael took the paper, his brow furrowing as he unfolded it. The faded parchment revealed a wanted poster—Amara's face stared back at him, her sharp eyes glaring beneath the bold lettering of her bounty: 15 Million Berries.
Michael's stomach tightened. He'd suspected Amara had a past she didn't want to share, but he hadn't expected this. The crimes listed on the poster were vague: medical malpractice, desertion, and acts against the crown.
"She didn't tell us she had a bounty," Lia said quietly.
"She didn't have to," Michael replied, folding the poster and slipping it into his pocket. "It's her past. What matters is what she does now."
"But what if someone recognizes her?" Lia asked. "What if she brings trouble?"
Michael looked at her, his expression firm. "We're all bringing something to this crew. Everyone has a past. If Amara's becomes a problem, we'll deal with it together."
Lia nodded, though her uncertainty lingered. She returned to her tasks, leaving Michael alone with his thoughts. The weight of leadership pressed heavier on him with each passing day, but he had made his choice. He wouldn't confront Amara unless he had to.
---
Later that evening, Michael found Amara in the infirmary, grinding herbs into a fine powder. She glanced up as he entered, her expression unreadable.
"You've been quiet today," she said, her tone neutral. "Something on your mind?"
Michael leaned against the doorframe. "Lia found something. A wanted poster."
Amara's hands stilled for a moment before she resumed her work. "Ah. I was wondering when that would come up."
"You didn't think to mention it?" Michael asked, keeping his voice calm.
Amara sighed, setting the pestle down. "It didn't seem relevant. I'm not running from anyone. If someone comes for me, I'll handle it."
Michael studied her, his instincts telling him there was more to the story. "The crimes listed—are they true?"
Amara's gaze met his, her sharp eyes unwavering. "Some. Not the way they're written, though. The people who put that bounty on me didn't care about the truth."
Michael nodded slowly. "Then tell me what I need to know. If someone comes after you, I want to be ready."
Amara hesitated, then leaned back against the table, her expression thoughtful. "I was a military doctor once. Good at what I did, too. But I didn't like taking orders that put innocent lives at risk. I disobeyed a direct command to abandon a village during an enemy raid. I stayed and treated as many people as I could."
"And that's why they want you?" Michael asked.
"That's part of it," Amara said. "When I refused to leave, I fought back. Hurt a few of their soldiers in the process. To them, I'm a deserter and a traitor."
Michael crossed his arms. "You don't regret it."
Amara's lips quirked into a faint smile. "Not for a second."
"Good," Michael said simply. "I don't care about your past, Amara. As long as you're with us, we've got your back."
Amara's smile softened. "I appreciate that."
---
The following morning, the Eclipse approached a small port town nestled between rocky cliffs. Michael had decided they would stop to gather fresh supplies and scout for any useful information. As they docked, Amara lingered near the railing, her posture tense.
"Are you worried?" Lia asked, noticing Amara's unease.
"Not worried," Amara replied. "Just cautious."
Michael stepped in, his voice firm. "Stick to the quieter parts of town. If anyone recognizes you, we leave immediately."
Amara nodded, her expression guarded. "Understood."
The town was bustling with activity, its cobblestone streets crowded with merchants, sailors, and locals. Michael and Lia moved through the market, securing provisions while Amara scouted for medical supplies. Everything seemed routine—until Michael spotted a group of men huddled near the edge of the market, their eyes scanning the crowd with predatory intent.
He recognized one of them immediately. His face was plastered on a bounty poster Michael had seen before: Krant, the Smiling Blade—8 Million Berries. He was a bounty hunter notorious for capturing high-value targets. And his attention was fixed on Amara.
Michael's blood ran cold. He turned to Lia, his voice low and urgent. "Go back to the ship. Now."
"What about you?" Lia asked, her eyes wide.
"I'll handle it," Michael said. "Stay out of sight."
Lia hesitated but obeyed, slipping into the crowd. Michael made his way toward Amara, his movements deliberate. She had just finished at a stall when Krant and his men began to close in.
"Amara," Michael called, his tone calm but commanding.
She looked up, her sharp eyes narrowing as she caught sight of the approaching men. "Friends of yours?"
"Not exactly," Michael said, stepping between her and Krant. "Stay close."
Krant grinned, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade. "What do we have here? A doctor with a price on her head. And you're protecting her? That's brave. Stupid, but brave."
Michael didn't flinch. "Walk away, Krant."
Krant laughed. "Why would I do that? She's worth a fortune."
"Because if you don't," Michael said, his voice cold, "you won't walk away at all."
The grin faded from Krant's face. He motioned to his men, who drew their weapons and advanced. Michael moved quickly, his revolver barking twice in rapid succession. The shots didn't hit their targets but sent the crowd scattering, creating chaos.
Amara drew her knife, her stance steady. "I don't need your protection, you know."
"I know," Michael said, his tone dry. "But humor me."
Krant lunged, his blade flashing in the sunlight. Michael dodged, countering with a precise strike to the man's wrist that sent the blade clattering to the ground. Another attacker swung at him, but Michael sidestepped and delivered a sharp kick to his chest, sending him sprawling.
Amara moved like a shadow, disarming one of the men with a quick twist of her wrist and delivering a calculated strike to his leg. He crumpled with a cry, his weapon falling uselessly to the ground.
Within moments, the fight was over. Krant and his men lay on the ground, groaning in pain. Michael stood over them, his revolver trained on Krant.
"You're not worth the bounty," Michael said coldly. "Get out of here."
Krant glared at him but nodded, motioning for his men to retreat. Michael watched them disappear into the crowd before turning to Amara.
"Still think you don't need protection?" he asked.
Amara smirked, wiping her blade clean. "Maybe just a little."
They returned to the Eclipse quickly, Lia waiting anxiously on the deck. As they set sail once more, Amara stood at the railing, her expression thoughtful.
"Thanks," she said quietly.
Michael nodded. "We're a crew. That means something."
Amara smiled faintly. "It does."
The Eclipse sailed into the open sea, the horizon stretching wide and full of promise. Whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together. And for the first time in a long while, Michael felt like they truly had the strength to endure.
---